


Space Coffee

by VictoriannWings



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Coffee, Couch Cuddles, Cuddles, Fluff, M/M, Napping, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 21:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriannWings/pseuds/VictoriannWings
Summary: The castle is out of coffee and Lance is going to die.





	

Lance had fought wars, battled Galra soldiers and ships, and endured a variety of ailments in his life. He had been through explosions and underwater imprisonment. And yet, in this moment, he knew he had suffered no greater ill than this:

They were out of coffee. Though Lance had searched every inch, every cabinet, every random crevice, he couldn't locate a single bean. Defeated and caffeineless, Lance plopped down beside Shiro on the space couch, his shoulders hunched. 

"I'm going to die," he said plaintively, eyes staring forward at nothing in particular. Face slack, he sat with his hands on his knees, a mere two inches from where Shiro sat on the couch next to him. 

Lance had spent years reading about Kerberos and the mission that Sam and Matt Holt and Takashi Shirogone had embarked on, inhaling every article written and factoid published. He was determined to not let his hero slip through the cracks, especially after the mission went south and Shiro became old news, Kerberos still undiscovered, a mystery that Lance couldn't let go of. 

And now here he was, sitting two inches from this incredible space explorer, who had endured torture and amputation and still led the Paladins with grace and dignity, his head raised high. 

"You're not going to die, Lance. Tell me what's wrong." Shiro's voice was soft, warm, inviting, and Lance met his gaze shyly. He thought he could melt in the warmth of them, deep and full and wrapping him up in safety. Butterflies rushed through him, swept through his stomach like a gust of hot wind. 

The coffee issue seemed far less important right now than the sharpness of Shiro's features, his strong jaw, broad shoulders... But Lance quickly tore his gaze away and cleared his throat. "Uh, we're out of coffee. Coran had me cleaning the training deck all morning, and all I wanted was a nap or a cup of coffee. I guess I'll have to opt for the nap...if he'll let me slip away long enough," he added, cheeks uplifting in a hint of a smile. 

Shiro's eyes twinkled; his body had subtly turned towards Lance, as if needing to be closer to him, which just made Lance's heart pound in his wrists. "No coffee, hmm? I guess we'll have to find some next time Coran lets us stop for supplies." 

Lance couldn't help himself. He took one look at Shiro's shifting arm muscles as the man turned nearer to him, and he blurted out, "You should have a cup of coffee with me. I mean, well, if we had some. When we get some. Uhhh. That would be nice. I mean--oops." He covered his burning face with one fist. If only he'd stopped talking sooner, maybe he wouldn't be bright red! Lance wanted desperately to disappear through the floor, to melt down and let the couch absorb him like a sponge. Really, truly, he was going to die.

But Shiro's smile brightened a little, and Lance's heart skipped a beat. Shiro had a smile that could outshine most of the stars they'd flown past. "Okay," Shiro murmured, and his hand rested on Lance's leg. The pure power in that soft, gentle touch sent shivers up Lance's spine and it was more than his little bisexual heart could handle. "I'd love to have coffee with you. But since we don't have any coffee right now..." Shiro paused, bit the edge of his lip ever so slightly, his deep eyes pooling with emotions Lance's fuzzy brain didn't know how to process--he almost didn't hear Shiro finish his sentence. "I think I better nap with you instead." 

Now Lance's face burned redder than Keith's lion. His hands shook, gripping his knees like he would get sucked out through the airlock if he didn't use them to stay grounded. Shiro's scarred hand slipped over Lance's, so calm and simple an act, it made everything seem peaceful and serene, even through Lance's intense inner turmoil. Shiro blazed before him, a warm beacon of happiness, of desire, and Lance's words died, unable to vocalise his want and joy in the face of this incredible man.

After a moment, Shiro's face fell slightly, and he started to withdraw his hand. "I'm sorry, perhaps I misread--"

Lance grabbed Shiro's hand, seized it and his gaze, as if catching his eyes would cement this moment in his heart forever. "Shiro...you didn't misread anything. I would love that. In fact, if you nap with me, I don't think I'll die from extreme caffeine loss." He winked, regaining a little bit of his composure. It began to dawn on him: Shiro wanted to nap with him. This phenomenal hero of his, his leader and friend, the man he looked up to most in this world, wanted to cuddle him. 

His spirits began to rise, and as they rose so did Lance. He stood up, reached for Shiro, and their fingers intertwined as if they had known each other longer than they could remember. "I could really use a nap," Lance admitted, and Shiro grinned, the scar across his nose wrinkling in mirth. 

"Me too," the tall man admitted, and followed Lance to his bedroom.


End file.
